Ground Control Touring

Among the current wave of shoegaze revivalists, Fort Worth’s trauma ray rank as high as any at capturing its complexity, intensity, and expressive devastation. Since first making waves with a self-titled EP in 2018, the core songwriting duo of Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have expanded and refined the project’s vision and craft, culminating in their 12-track Dais debut, Chameleon. Rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the album both synthesizes and transcends its influences, a stormy fusion of downer hooks, apocalyptic beauty, and bulldozer riffs.

One of trauma ray’s greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an ear-worm, without production tricks or gimmicks: “Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts – that’s all you need.” The result is the essence of what Perez wants for the band: ” In general I never want to do things in the studio that we can’t play live, although it always sounds better live because the guitars are louder.”

The name trauma ray was inspired by the German word for ‘daydream, or ‘dream state,’ in classic shoegaze fashion. Avila’s background in a devout Pentecostal community gives his lyrics about guilt, purgatory, and passing to the other side to an emotional authenticity that cuts through the music’s majestic volume.

This quality is particularly apparent on Chameleon’s title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death (“A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection”). For Perez, it’s the pinnacle of the band’s chemistry: “Musically it’s the song that best captures our shared tastes – heavy, catchy, pretty, all at the same time. It’s my favorite chorus, favorite lyrics, favorite song on the album.”

Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing to Hum and beyond, trauma ray absorb and expand on their influences, steadily carving their own terrain. Theirs is a rare and dedicated alchemy, which Perez acknowledges every time they play together: “None of us are taking any of this for granted. We’re so fortunate to be doing this thing that we all care so much about. As you get a little older, you realize that to get five people in the same room making music twice a week for six years straight is almost virtually impossible. To achieve what we’ve done is bewildering.”

The band’s live sets keep sharpening across increasingly adventurous American tours, stacking amps and turning heads show by show. With a busy performance schedule looming and new songs constantly germinating, trauma ray’s cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.